> For thus it chanced one morn when all the court,
Green-suited, but with plumes that mock’d the may,
Had been, their wont, a-maying and return’d,
That Modred still in green, all ear and eye,
Climb’d to the high top of the garden-wall
To spy some secret scandal if he might,
And saw the Queen who sat betwixt her best
Enid, and lissome Vivien, of her court
The wiliest and the worst; and more than this
He saw not, for Sir Lancelot passing by
Spied where he couch’d, and as the gardener’s hand
Picks from the colewort a green caterpillar,